


Voodoo Child

by blacktofade



Category: Muse
Genre: Crossdressing, Established Relationship, M/M, handjob, plot what plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for frisky_biscuit @ Livejournal. Matt wakes up Dom for an early morning surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voodoo Child

Normally, Dom wakes to the sweet sound of Voodoo Child playing on his phone, the song that’s been his alarm for at least a year. However, on this day, Dom wakes to something scratching at the tip of his nose. He blinks in the half-light of the room and finds Matt kneeling over him, one finger outstretched towards Dom’s face that’s clearly the culprit as to why Dom’s awake at – he turns his head to look at the clock – six in the morning. On a Saturday, no less.

Matt grins down at him, mouth stretched wide – clearly he’s planning something, Dom just doesn’t have the brain power to figure out what it is yet after having only just woken up.

“I was going to put whipped cream in your palm and let you smack yourself in the face, but thought that might ruin the fun.”

Dom groans groggily and attempts to sit up, but Matt seats himself on his hips and pins him down. Dom’s hands automatically go to his waist, but they pull away sharply at the feel of strange material under his palms.

“ – the fuck?”

Matt apparently sees it as his cue to lean over and flick the bedside lamp on, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow, revealing exactly what he’s wearing – or what he’s not wearing, at least.

“Is that – ”

“Found it in the cupboard; bet you forgot it was even in there.”

Matt’s right: he had, but now it all comes rushing back to him and, Jesus, if he tilts his head just so, he can see the tip of Matt’s cock just beyond the lacy, red hemline.

“The last time you wore that you couldn’t sit for a week after.”

“Well, we’ve got six days off, so that’s lucky, isn’t it?”

Dom can never tell if he hates all of Matt’s plans, or loves them. They tend to be absolutely batshit, slightly undignified, and almost always partly dangerous, but Matt laughs his ridiculously high-pitched laugh as he leans down to kiss him and he forgets everything in an instant, which is probably why they’ve been arrested twice and threatened by gang members more times than he can count on his left hand due to Matt’s ideas.

He slips a hand behind Matt’s head, holding him in place as he slides their mouths together slowly, his body still willing to negotiate with sleep, though the deal slips right off the table when Matt bites his lips sharply then licks the throbbing pain away.

“How have I managed to put up with you for so long?” he asks himself aloud, as Matt turns his face and huffs a laugh into his ear.

“I don’t believe a word of it. I spice up your life.”

Matt sucks on the lobe of his ear, teeth nibbling and testing the firmness of his skin.

“The 90s called, Matt: it wants that line back.”

He tries not to let on how breathless he actually is, which is harder than it sounds because Matt’s mouth slides up the curved shell of cartilage and, yep, sleeping is definitely off the cards. His hands move from Matt’s hips, slipping around to fit against the curve of Matt’s arse, the soft swell only just enough to fill his palms. His thumbs sneak under the skirt, stroking Matt’s thighs gently and he feels every twitch of muscle underneath pale skin.

His ear is wet by the time Matt pulls away and it feels as though there are still teeth nipping at the tender skin, even though Matt’s open mouth slides back over his own, letting him push his tongue into the heat. Matt mumbles something into the space, obviously forgetting that he needs to pull away if he wants to speak and be understandable, but Dom doesn’t complain because the noise vibrates the roof of his mouth and sends tingling pleasure to his brain.

He slides his thumbs into the lines where Matt’s thighs meet his body and rubs tantalisingly slow, feeling the way Matt’s cock hardens and lifts the skirt higher, giving him more exposed skin to touch. Before he can wrap a palm around Matt’s erection, Matt grinds down against him, the sheets and Dom’s boxers in the way of letting him bask in the feel of skin on skin, but Matt doesn’t seem to care. With a soft noise of frustration, Dom lifts Matt’s hips and rolls his body enough for the covers to slide down, one less barrier to keep them apart, as Matt bucks down and sucks on his bottom lip in response.

There’s definitely not enough air in the room, let alone his lungs, and it’s when he breaks the kiss, dragging in a deep breath that Matt takes the opportunity to draw him into a sitting position, piling pillows behind his back for him to rest against. With clumsy hands, Matt kneels up and tugs Dom’s boxers down, slipping them over his feet, and letting them flop over the side of the bed to the floor.

“You look ridiculous, I hope you know that,” Dom says in between harsh breaths, but Matt just smirks at him, because they both know it’s a fat lie.

Dom traces his fingers over his knee as Matt sits upon his thighs, legs spreading and offering a clearer view of the leaking cock peeking from beyond the material of the skirt. Dom’s mouth almost waters at the sight, because no one, especially not Matt, has the right to look so damn good in a lacy miniskirt and nothing else. Matt walks his fingers up over Dom’s stomach, the tips pressing spots of heat into his skin as they tease, sliding over his nipple and back down to the coarse hair below his navel. Dom bucks up into the touch, lifting Matt with him, but Matt just loops his arms around his shoulders and lets out half a laugh.

“It’s like that time in Texas,” he says and the fact that Dom doesn’t even need him to elaborate to know exactly what he’s talking about is slightly worrying. All he can remember from that night is drinking a boat load of tequila, riding a mechanical bull, and then getting banned from the bar for throwing up all over said bull.

“It’s nothing like that time in Texas,” is Dom’s best retort, though he’ll forgive himself because he does have a lapful of naked Matt and a clear idea of how things are going to end.

Matt kisses him again, slowly dragging one hand back down, finally wrapping tight fingers around Dom’s cock, while Dom fills his mouth with muffled groans. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing, which is possibly because he’s slightly telepathic, though probably because he’s done it to Dom too many times to feasibly try and count. It’s nothing out of the ordinary until Matt pushes his hips forward and lets the underside of Dom’s erection drag roughly over the lace of his skirt.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dom moans, turning his face to one side, while Matt presses clumsy kisses to the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll also answer to ‘God’, ‘Sweet Mother of Mercy’, and maybe even ‘Matt’, but only if you’re lucky.”

Dom has no idea how anybody can run their mouth so much, especially while rutting against someone else with a cock in one hand. Matt is a man of many talents, and that’s even without going into detail about what he can do with his tongue. With fingers that hardly want to cooperate, Dom grips Matt’s waist and tugs him even closer, until he can see for a fact that each time Matt moves his fist, his knuckles brush against his own cock.

He sucks and nibbles on the thin, pale skin drawn tightly over Matt’s collarbone and feels Matt’s pleasure in every twitch of his hand, the way it clenches ever so slightly and then quickly loosens as though worried he’s hurting Dom. Dom just rolls his hips gently and eventually Matt’s resolve seems to crumble and he lets go of Dom’s cock, though only so he can take them both in one hand, grip wide, but still firm, dragging them both into bliss.

Surprisingly, it’s Matt who comes first, slicking his palm as his cock dribbles over Dom’s own, and Dom almost follows after at the sight alone, however, it’s the thumb Matt swirls through the mess on the reddened head of his erection that finally does it for him. He holds his breath and shuts his eyes, praying the moment will never pass as a wave of pleasure crashes over him and leaves him floundering for air as he finally gasps and pants, peeling his eyelids open to find Matt looking far too pleased with himself.

“Not too bad for half-six in the morning, eh?”

Dom wants to smother him with a pillow if only to shut him up for one peaceful moment.

“It would be a thousand times better if it were half-ten instead. Some of us actually use the night to sleep.”

Matt presses his smile against Dom’s lips and Dom opens for him, never able to turn the teasing into anything more than light-hearted jabs.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Dom says, pausing for dramatic effect and – because he wants to live – for breath, “then your arse is mine.”

Matt laughs, the noise tickling the side of Dom’s face and possibly deafening him in one ear, but Matt doesn’t even attempt to squirm away and it might just be the one reason why Dom’s put up with him for so long.


End file.
